“Were we!” they cried, and Billie added with a laugh:  “We locked and double locked all the windows and doors, and if it hadn’t been for Chet I would have piled furniture against the doors.  But we want to know what you’ve been doing,” she cried, turning to her mother eagerly.  “Tell us, please, quick.  We’ve been waiting so long.”

Again Mr. Bradley laughed and pinched his impatient young daughter’s cheek.

“I think our news can wait till we get to the house,” he said.

“But I can’t,” protested Billie.

“Anybody would think you really expected to hear something,” chuckled Mr. Bradley, who seemed to be enjoying himself immensely over something.

“Oh, please,” begged Billie, almost beside herself with impatience by this time—­and Chet, in his quiet way, was just as bad.  There was something about their mother’s and father’s manner that told them something was in the wind.

“I’m just dying by inches,” went on Billie.

But this time it was Mrs. Bradley who interrupted.

“Here we are at home, dear,” she said.  “Can’t you give Dad and me a chance to rest, and give us perhaps a cup of tea—­”

“Oh, I’m a selfish old beast!” said Billie penitently.  “I might have known you would be terribly tired after that long train ride!”

And still scolding herself she hurried them before her into the house and flew to find Debbie.  She had not far to go, however, for Debbie was just lumbering, like a good-natured elephant, through the hall to greet her master and mistress.  As soon as the greetings were over she lumbered back again to make the necessary tea.

Billie and Chet controlled their impatience, answering the questions their mother had to ask them about all that had happened while they had been away, for Mrs. Bradley had been anxious.

When they finally left the table and Mrs. Bradley led the way back into the library, Billie uttered a long sigh of relief.

“Well,” said Mrs. Bradley, and they leaned forward eagerly, “we found that what we always supposed about the amount of money Aunt Beatrice had was right.  She left only a few thousand, and that—­queer soul that she was—­she left to a missionary society.”

“Oh!” cried Billie, and it must be admitted that she both felt and looked horribly disappointed.  She had not known just how much she had hoped, both for herself and for Chet, until this moment.  And Chet, poor fellow, felt just as bad, although he showed it less.

“Then she didn’t leave anything either to you or Dad?” Chet asked.

“No.  But she did leave something to you and Billie,” was Mrs. Bradley’s startling announcement.

Billie and Chet looked at one another as if to be sure that they had heard aright.

“You say she left us something?” cried Billie breathlessly.

“Yes.  But don’t let your hopes run away with you,” Mr. Bradley warned them, “for it wasn’t very much.”